


A Memory of Love

by mishdemeanor



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Memory Related, Other, Platonic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 02:31:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3751045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mishdemeanor/pseuds/mishdemeanor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short drabble I wrote for my rp blog, heavens-oldest. I figured it had been awhile since I posted on here, so I thought I would just dump it here, as well.</p>
<p>The prompt was for a memory about romance/love from Michael's past. He only experienced romantic feelings before his time in hell in certain verses, and I didn't want to show favourites, so I wrote this little thing about platonic love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Memory of Love

Michael was newly created, still just a small fledgling who barely filled the smallest space on his Father’s palm. The clouds were barely a concept around him - looking even more like cotton than they do now, tasting sweet and wet on his tongue and creating a dew on his cheeks when he chose to fly through them. One particular moment (since time didn’t yet exist - existence was built upon moments, rather than minutes, hours, days, etc.) his Father called upon him. His face had been masked by the clouds, save for his mouth which offered a warm smile.

“Michael, my son,” He greeted, voice a loud rumble as He spoke. “I have someone to introduce you to. Are you ready to meet him?”

“Someone?” Michael repeated, his green eyes wide with his question. His Father gave a small nod, the tip of his nose coming into view with the action, before he raised his other hand to the same level as his first son, a small puff of a cloud resting in the middle. The young archangel crawled into the other palm, lifting a small hand to touch the cloud. As he did, it dissipated under his touch, revealing an even smaller fledgling than he was currently - with nut brown, shaggy hair and pale rose coloured feathers.

“His name is Lucifer,” Michael’s Father filled in as the elder of the two angels begun to smile for the first time since he came into existence.

“Hello, Lucifer…my Brother.”


End file.
